Work Text:
Take Me On
"I got you," John says, a small frown creasing his forehead as he wraps an arm around and under Hal’s shoulders, holding him up. "Lean on me."
Lifting his head a little, trying to blink away the blood dripping from the cut right above his eyebrow, Hal grins. "Johnnie. John. Jo-ohn." He feels almost euphoric. His skin still burns from being wrapped in all that willpower. He almost lost himself in there.
"Your pupils are too dilated," cursing, John no longer waits for Hal to try and get his feet one in front of the other, instead bending down to curl his other arm around the back of Hal’s knees before picking him up in a bridal carry. "I'm taking you to the medbay."
"Med, bed," Hal snorts, but he can't help it when he rests his head on John’s shoulder, whole body going lax. "Take me t'bed. Yeah. Your bed."
John's already flying—which is good. He would've tripped if he had been walking. As it is, he can feel how his cheeks are heating up.
"You don't mean that."
The expression on Hal's face suddenly gets very, very serious. "Mean it. One hundo purrcent."
"You have a concussion," John tells him, though he does hold Jordan closer to his chest, more endeared than he wants to admit. "And you need medical attention."
Hal laughs a little. "Gonna gimme your lollipop after?"
"I swear to god, Hal—"